dollhouse
by horrorscopes
Summary: The Spirit is either very kind or very cruel in the way she withholds things so efficiently, giving just the smallest touches to keep Ryou from crumbling in on herself or growing complacent. [puzzle/blindshipping, torn/gravityshipping]
1. Chapter 1

if this looks familiar it's because i've posted (the first chapter of) it here before; this has been edited slightly and will now be continued

background: ryou, bakura, and malik are women in this, everyone else is the same gender as they are in canon. ryou and malik are trans women and while i wrote bakura as cis i've kept it kind of vague (atleast with what i've written in advance so far) so if you want to view her as trans as well feel free

the main focus is going to be on ryou and bakuras relationship. torn/gravityshipping is endgame and puzzle/blindshipping is a main background ship. rating may end up bumped in the future.

* * *

Ryou wakes with the afterimages of red and gold imprinted on the back of her eyelids and the dull ringing of screams in her ears. The dreams slip away as her consciousness worms its way back to alertness and by the time she's fully awake only a vague sense of unease remains. She rises, pulls on her uniform, methodically brushes the tangles out of her hair and by the time she is out the door and on the way to school the feeling is already forgotten.

…

In her soul room Ryou looks like herself. Not - not the image she sees in the mirror in the morning or when she changes clothes, but her. It was an ecstatic feeling, the first time she noticed, before she got shoved in the dark and couldn't see anything and all senses went to more pressing matters. Like stumbling through the dark for some kind of exit and asking _where am I?'s_ and _who are you?'s_ that were only ever met with silence.

Things are stacked messily around the room - paint sets, carving tools, clay, boards and dice and books thrown wherever they may fall and making a minefield of the floor. The bed is large and piled high with pillows and covers and invites her to rest her head, but she ignores it.

There's a metal door, cold and gray and closed tight, but she bypasses it as well to dump her Monster World dice on the table. Her fingers seek out the die easily and she tosses it. She frowns when it lands but retreats back to the door anyway. It's heavy and refuses to budge, no matter how hard she pushes, and pulling proves as useless as always. She sighs, moving back to sweep up the dice.

Despite all her time here Ryou still hasn't figure out the exact rules for this place – but she's sure there has to be some way out, some puzzle or pattern to solve, if only she could find it.

…

The Spirit is messy, messier than Ryou, and unlike Ryou makes no attempt to not be. It is the first thing that Ryou notices when she wakes up from another blackout the day after the Voice stopped being the Voice and became the Spirit, and the longer the bodily takeovers last the more obvious it becomes. Her hair becomes a tangled, greasy nest and her clothes stick unpleasantly to her body like the Spirit was too busy for a bath or even a quick brush. Her stomach convulsed with hunger pains and her mouth tasted the foul way one does after not brushing for a week and the faint aftertaste of undercooked meats.

She cleans the dirt and dried blood - both, or just one, depending on the day - from under her nails and clips them down from sharp to bluntness and tries to avoid thinking about what her hands did when she was not awake to know. If she focuses hard enough for her vision to blur, she can pretend the stains are paint instead.

...

 _This needs to stop._

The thought is directed nowhere, and she feels no stir from the ring.

…

She does not call her father for help and he does not call her to check in when she begins missing too many days of school. Maybe the school could not reach him, buried out somewhere in the deserts of Egypt with his tools of escapism. But she doubts. Things were strained enough, after _they_ died, but when Ryou turned thirteen and said, _"I'm a girl,"_ their connection nearly snapped.

Ryou looked enough like her mother without the clothes she stole from the back of her father's closet. She has her own, now, and prefers her jeans and long skirts and spare makeup to her mother's bright sundresses and heels, but it's enough. He doesn't say it, but she can tell by the way he never looks at her long when he's home from the trips that had been growing longer and longer each year.

He still sends money, the occasional gift, but phone calls are rarer and video calls stopped when she turned fifteen. She likes being by herself, and his work is important, so she tries not to hold it against him even when a voice whispers that she should.

…

The Spirit's fingers card through her hair roughly. Ryou wants to wince, but keeps her face carefully blank. Though she showed no interest in her own unruly mane, after finally appearing before her the Spirit seemed fixated on Ryou's - hers in the soul realm, not the physical, because they shared that; Ryou has to remind herself often now that they are separate beings, and she wonders, half with resignation, when she stopped viewing her body strictly as belonging to herself with an unfortunate parasite, and when the parasite became more symbiotic.

She knows it's a distraction - can feel the throbbing in her arm when she probes too close to check on her consciousness - and perhaps, an apology, but it's the lull of calloused fingers tugging with not-quite-gentleness and finesse through her locks to braid them that loosens her tongue.

Thoughts are fleeting, sluggish, hard to grasp, and her soul room shifts around her disorientedly, but she eventually manages to focus.

"Spirit?" She whispers, afraid to break the atmosphere. The Spirit lets out a low hum in reply.

"Did you have a family? It's just," She plunges forward despite the tightening of fingers at the base of the back of her neck. "You don't seem like the type to take care of your own hair this way, but maybe you had a-"

She expects the Spirit to lash out - slam her head to the ground and growl or yank her up by her hair - but instead she just vanishes. Ryou is left to sit herself up in the haze of mist overlooking space shuttles and stars, alone.

…

"You might as well give in and refer to me as Bakura, landlord," The Spirit says, mockingly, "All your friends do." _Master_ and _mistress_ and _landlord_ might have seemed sincere at first, like all of the Spirit's intentions, but they never were, at least not fully.

"I can not stop you from stealing my body," Ryou traces the scar on the back of her hand idly, meeting the Spirit's transparent eyes as she stretches like a lazy monarch across Ryou's couch, "But I will not let you have my name, too." Her name is one of the few things she refuses to back down on when it comes to her Spirit. It hurts, hearing her friends refer to their enemy with Ryou's own name, but she knows they do so for lack of anything else to call her, and tries not to let it get to her.

...

The Spirit is either very kind or very cruel in the way she withholds things so efficiently, giving just the smallest touches to keep Ryou from crumbling in on herself or growing complacent.

Ryou wants to learn more about the Millennium Items, about the spirits, and when the Spirit asks her to build the diorama for her final game, Ryou agrees readily in return for the glimpses of the past the Spirit shows her to make things as accurate as possible. (Though, she thinks some things must be off, this is as close as she will get to the truth, so Ryou takes it.)

She loves her friends, distant though she's forced to be with them, and she has no misgivings about the spirits intentions for them, but she also trusted Yugi and his spirit to win against her own.

The doll for her Spirit is the last one she makes, and the one she spends the longest time on. Thousands of years trapped within a ring wastes ones memory, and though they were returning with the help of the Pharaoh's presence, the Spirit still struggled to remember her own name and face. She doesn't admit to it, but Ryou can't see any other excuse being true.

The skin is painted a warm brown that contrasts starkly against the mop of white - though much shorter than her own - that makes up the thief's hair. The scar is carved in and painted over carefully, the Spirit watching intently so close behind her Ryou could almost convince herself she could feel warm breath and that if she moved any closer, her chest would press in to Ryou's shoulders instead of passing through.

Her hand almost wavers at the thought (she could turn her head just slightly right now and maybe-) but through some deep buried will she manages to keep steady and finish the doll.

In the end, she doesn't get to see her Spirit disappear, and though she celebrates she feels almost cheated. Yugi got closure and strength from his spirit, but she was left with blank spaces in her memory and a million questions to never be answered.


	2. Chapter 2

When her eyes crack open to see her Spirit crouched on the coffee table and leaning over her, Ryou's first thought is _I must be dreaming_.

Her second thought is _I must be having a nightmare_.

The eyes staring at her are wild, narrowed in confusion and more lilac than rust. Her hair is long and tangled as always but her skin is dark and Ryou distantly realizes this must be the thief's real body before launching herself off the couch and away from the sudden apparition in her apartment.

The Spirit catches her by the ankle before she can make it off and she crashes hard, stomach slamming in to the arm rest when she is yanked back and knocking the wind out of her.

" _You._ "

Ryou is gasping, trying to push air in to her burning lungs. The Spirit's voice is raspy and grating. Like she hadn't used her own voice in a long time, throat straining to push out sound while her tongue was struggling to remember how to form the proper words.

" _Ryou_."

The pain in her stomach and her lungs made this real.

" _Ryou, look_."

The warm palm on her skin made this real.

"I," Ryou tries to tuck her arms around her midsection as mobility returns to her along with her breath. The - _Thief's_ , no-longer-the-Spirit's, left hand is still wrapped around her ankle while the other one presses in to the edge of the couch to balance herself. "What?"

" _Look_." Ryou hears shifting and her bowl from last night clutters to the ground as the Thief releases Ryou's ankle and leans back on the table. Ryou drags her eyes to look, avoiding the Thief's eyes and the bare chest peeking out from the large cloak. "How?"

"I don't," Ryou knits her eyebrows together. "I,"

"You did not do this."

" _No_."

The Thief stands up and marches out of Ryou's sight. Ryou tenses. She can hear the Thief in her room and the adrenaline rushing through her tired body makes it hard to focus on anything other than _fight or flight, get up now_ , but her body is still trembling.

The Thief comes back out in to the living room with her old black coat tight around her, shendyt and sandals exchanged for jeans and sneakers. She leaves immediately, not even sparing Ryou a second glance.

For the next few minutes Ryou stares at the closed door in confusion. For the next few minutes after that she slumps on the couch and tries to calm her shaking. After half an hour has passed, she drags herself up and goes to find shoes.

…

Ryou had fantasized about what she would do if she was ever faced with her Spirit again. A lot. Rarely the same way twice. Yugi said he did too, sometimes, but she doubts his thoughts were the same as hers.

Ryou would wrap her hands around the Spirit's throat and squeeze until she felt her stolen life return to her.

The Spirit would hold her gently and say _I was as much a puppet as you were; forgive me?_ and Ryou would.

Ryou would throw her out to the modern world all alone and feel bigger than her scars because she didn't need a ghost to haunt her lonely bones anymore.

The Spirit would kill her before she could open her mouth to scream or ask _why?_ and she would laugh and laugh and laugh and Ryou would be the fool _again,_ a tool that outlived its usefulness.

She did not quite imagine the events that took place, or herself walking through the cold night towards the Kame Game Shop with only a wool jacket pulled on over her thin pajamas in the aftermath.

The Thief took her main pair of shoes so she had to dig around in her closet for a suitable substitute. They were her old school shoes and they fit fine, but there was the beginnings of a hole in the left shoe and every time her toe moved against it she wanted to throw them off and go barefoot, frostbite be damned. Her phone was in her pocket, dead. She rarely used it and by extension rarely kept it charged. It had enough battery to let her send a quick message to Yugi as she left her apartment but it had died before she got to the first street corner. She hopes he sees the message and she doesn't have to wake his grandpa.

She was at a loss.

Without the literal looming threat of the Thief, and with the help of the cold bite of the night air, she could begin to rationalize. But thinking was not helping her make any more sense of it.

Why was she here? Not even a ghost anymore - but as a person, _a person who should be dead_ , swallowed whole by Ammut to never be seen again. Did she escape the Gods? How could she have? Why had it taken so long; unless time flowed differently there? That would make sense, Ryou supposed. But if she did escape, why would she show up here, one of the first places anyone would surely look for her? Ryou could not be used as a vessel to hide in anymore. She had no obvious use to offer.

 _And I wouldn't offer it even if I did_ , she thought, bitterly.

She likes puzzles. Perhaps not as much as Yugi - she preferred puzzles that furthered stories, that brought about changes, like in her campaigns, over the physical kind you put together piece by piece. But this wasn't a puzzle she could hold at arm length and easily pick apart without emotion. It was too close to her. It reminded her of how she felt the first time she faced the Spirit.

But the first step to solving any puzzle was to have a grasp on all the pieces. If her spirit was here, for whatever reason, then Yugi's might be as well. If only as an extended arm of the Gods to pull the Thief back to where she should be.

She wonders if the Thief would be returning to her apartment. She might. The rational part of Ryou told her to hope not, but her curiosity kept surfacing enough to make her hesitate saying a firm _no,_ even in her own mind.

…

Yugi systematically presses his thumb to his pointer finger, his middle finger, his ring finger, his pinky. He touches each one quickly and moves on to the next hand. Pointer. Middle. Ring. Pinky. Breathe. Pointer. Middle. Ring. Pinky. Breathe.

Steady hands wrap around his own to hold them still.

"Partner," Atem starts, turning Yugi's hands over and rubbing circles on his palms. "I'm sorry for upsetting you."

Yugi shakes his head furiously. "I'm not upset."

Atem looks pointedly at their hands. Yugi fidgets. "You are."

"It would be stupid for me to be upset about this."

Atem hums. "No. I don't think so." He turns their hands over again to lace their fingers together. Yugi is torn between melting in to the touch or pulling away. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Why am I sorry?"

"Why are you here? I thought I won."

Atem draws his shoulders back straight, and manages to look serious even with a marshmallow jacket squishing loudly while his body half twists towards Yugi on the couch. "You did win."

"Then how…?"

Atem frowns and Yugi marks his fuller lips as another difference between their faces now. "I do not know. One moment I was in Aaru, and the next," he untangles a hand to gesture around the room. "I was here."

"Do you think... something bad is going to happen?"

"I hope not." Atem returns his hand to Yugi's and smiles sadly. "But, with our track record..."

"Right."

They sit in silence for a while, thinking. Yugi wishes he could still hear Atem's thoughts, but their mind link is severed, and Atem's face is much less expressive than Yugi's own. Then again, Yugi was never really good at reading expressions anyway. Body language, sure, but not expressions. Atem was, though. Can Atem see all the emotions he's feeling right now?

"...I really am glad to see you again, Atem."

"I am as well. Though I was not expecting us to meet again so soon, or like this." Atem pauses like he's contemplating something.

"Aaru is wonderful. I am surrounded by my friends and family once more and have the past few thousands of years in paradise to catch up on, but." Atem looks to the side, and his smile is softer. Yugi can only tell that he tenses because their hands are still linked, but he doesn't know what it could mean besides possible nervousness - but what would Atem ever have to be nervous about around Yugi, of all people? - and focuses on Atem's words instead. "I missed you."

Before either could say anything more, an upbeat jingle comes from upstairs. Yugi wants to ignore it. But...

Atem turns his body back around to look at the clock. His eyes narrow. "Who would be calling this late?"

"I'll be right back." Yugi reluctantly lets go of Atem's hands and dashes up the stairs as quietly as he could. His grandpa was a heavy sleeper, but he didn't want to take any chances at waking him. He, guiltily, wanted to be alone with Atem a little longer before telling anyone else.

His phone is on his desk, no longer beeping, but the green light flickering showed he had a message. Yugi unplugs the charger and flips open his phone, his small kuriboh charm bouncing off the back of his hand. His eyes widen in surprise.

"Partner?"

Yugi whips around to see Atem stepping through his doorway and it's such a familiar-but-not sight that he has to force down the sudden burning lump in his throat before he can speak. "It's Bakura."

Atem crosses the room in seconds. He looks down to read the text and pauses. He smiles awkwardly. "...Ah. Speaking is coming back to me rather quickly, but I'm afraid the ability to read your characters is coming back much slower."

"Oh! Right, sorry, here," Yugi smiles back, but makes his face more serious as he turns back to his phone and types in a quick message to Bakura. "Bakura is on her way here. She said that the other Bakura showed up. We should go wait for her."

"Of course." Atem nods and he leads the way out of the room.

Yugi follows, keeping his phone out. He opens a new message, this time, to Ishizu. He bites his lip, trying to remember the time difference. Would she even be awake? But it was important. Maybe she would know something. In the years that they have kept contact, she always seemed to have at least some of her powers left, if only about little things.

The two cross from the living area to the game shop front, and Yugi looks up to squint out in to the dark night beyond the glass before turning back to his phone. "I'm asking Ishizu if she's Seen anything," He says aloud for Atem's benefit.

"Perfect idea." Atem moves closer to the door, leaving Yugi to stand by the counter. Yugi is annoyed at himself for wishing he had stayed closer, especially when the situation was growing so tense. He braces his arms on the counter and sets his phone down in between them, flipping between watching the screen and watching Atem, who was now leaning against the glass and sweeping his eyes across the parking lot.

"You don't think she's hurt, do you?"

"...I am not sure." Atem murmurs, turning from staring outside to stare at Yugi. "I will admit I had wondered if that wretched thief would be here as well, considering I had no warning from Ra or any messengers before finding myself here, but I had hoped that she would not be. Whatever this is, it must be her fault."

Atem crosses his arms and turns back to the window. "...If anything has happened, I take full responsibility. I should have acted on my hunch the moment I arrived."

"But it's not your fault! If anything it's the other Bakura's fault. If you're right, it's _all_ her fault," Yugi stressed. "Besides, we don't even know if anything happened yet. Bakura's changed a lot, Atem."

Atem doesn't turn around. "I have a feeling you have as well."

"Well," Yugi looks down again. "Yes, of course I have. It's been years."

"How many?"

"Three," Yugi answers immediately. "Three years, and a month."

This time, Yugi can clearly see Atem tensing. "Three..."

Yugi switches between screens on his phone, still with no new messages, to avoid looking at Atem as he asks his question. "How long has it been, in Aaru?"

"Time passes differently there. It is not easy to explain. An infinity in a moment, maybe." Atem's last sentence comes out distracted, and Yugi looks up to see him pressing closer to the glass. "Is that Bakura?"

Yugi leaves his phone and crosses the shop to the door. Bakura is walking briskly across the parking lot, dressed less warmly than Atem who had found himself shoved in a thick, noisy jacket minutes after suddenly appearing in the middle of a winter night.

The first thing Bakura does after Yugi opens the door for her to slip inside is look at Atem and say, mostly to herself, "Well, one question answered." She bows her head slightly. "Hello, pharaoh."

Atem nods back slowly.

"Bakura," Yugi is already pulling at her sleeves, leading her across the floor. "Aren't you freezing? Come on, it's warmer in the house, we can talk in there. Are you thirsty?"

"I'm fine," She carefully tugs her sleeve out of Yugi's grip, but continues to follow him. "But thank you, Yugi."

They gather in the living room to talk and come to a frustrating conclusion: none of them know anything.

"I don't understand." Ryou leans forward, angling herself at the two pressed together on the couch. "There has to be a reason."

Atem looks grave. "I have no doubt that there is one. But I do not know it."

"So what should we do? Just wait and see what happens?"

"You can stay here," Yugi offers. "On the couch, or I can pull out an extra futon, if you want."

Ryou shakes her head. "No. It's better if I go home." She really has grown closer to Yugi, but it still catches her off guard and warms her to have people who see her as someone worthy to extend their hand to. "I'll need to be there in case she comes back."

Neither of them look happy with the decision. "We will come by in the morning," Atem nods at her from his seat while Yugi rises to walk her out.


End file.
